


The Reaper Games

by ChuchiOtaku



Category: Bleach
Genre: 74th Hunger Games, Bleach/Hunger Games, Crossover, F/M, Kuchiki Family Feels, pre-HitsuRuki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 19:12:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17668463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChuchiOtaku/pseuds/ChuchiOtaku
Summary: “She had only seven slips!  FUCKING SEVEN SLIPS!  OUT OF HUNDREDS!  How can that drunk bastard pick Hisana’s name?!” The 74th Reaper Games. District 12.  To save her brother’s fiancée, Kuchiki Rukia makes a decision that will change her life forever.  [Hunger Games/Bleach crossover AU. Pre-HitsuRuki. For Bleach Big Bang Bing#5]





	The Reaper Games

Soooo this is supposed to be for the bang.  Which was due Feb 1, I think.  And I’m late.  But better late than never, right?  :D

Part of the Bleach Big Bang Bing #5: Book/Movie AU.  HitsuRuki hints peppered around, because I want to fill the Bleach archives with it. 

Age differences have been skewered because I needed them to fit the story.  And just so as we’re clear, Hisana and Rukia are NOT related in this fic.

DISCLAIMER:  I don’t own Bleach or Hunger Games.  Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite.  Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins.

* * *

I fiddled with my scarf as I made my way down the thankfully empty streets of my district, taking care to make my steps light and my eyes sharp.  Last I checked, it was only three thirty in the morning, but I knew that District 12 hours—especially for the coal miners—are earlier than that.  Not that I minded the miners (the grunts, as some stupid boys in my class liked to call them), but the lesser people I run into right now, the better.  Even if there’s hardly a chance of that happening, since the miners live in the Seam district at the opposite end of the district.

But I’m used to this daily trek by now that I know the way like the color of my night sky hair.  It’s a half a mile walk from my home, past the old tree near the creek and to the oldest part of the fence where hardly anyone goes to anymore.  The entire metal chain linked structure was supposed to be electrified. So much as a finger against it, and you’ll be jolted by a shock enough to knock out a hundred men.  It was meant to protect us from the wild animals in the forest, or so the Central 46 back at the Capitol said. 

Lately, I’ve been thinking that it was more of to make sure we stay in.

I push the treasonous thought aside when I reached the part of the fence where rust and tear formed a gap, wide enough for a small thing like me to squeeze through all right.  Then again, as I have tested and proved myself, the fence was never electrified to begin with, so even less reason to worry about getting shocked. Still, I hurried through the gap and, with a shake of my cloak, darted off.

Getting caught sneaking into woods will have dire consequences, even for the mayor’s daughter. 

 

Soujun Kuchiki, only in his mid-thrities, was still supposed to be in his prime.  But two years ago, the winter back then had been hard on him, leaving his body wracking with coughs and an on-and-off fever for days now.  Some say that perhaps the stress of being the mayor and the long years of raising me and my brother by himself after mother died had finally caught up with him.  When I think of my father’s gentle, caring smile and how he would always somehow warm a room up just by being there, I refuse to believe it.  He will get better.

He will, even if I have to uproot every medicinal herb in this forest to make it happen.

The marsh was teeming with the herbs I needed.  I made my way to the muddy edge, carefully adjusting my little flashlight while picking some reed thin branches.  Eupatorium.  Drosera.  Euphrasia.  All perfect for use in cough remedies.  I placed the best ones I could find in my pouch as I continued my trek. 

Most people think that being the Mayor meant you are well off.  Take it from his daughter, that’s not entirely true—while we’ve never starved for days on end like the worst of the Seam, we weren’t living off the lap of luxury like a Capitol resident either.  And those medicines from the Capitol my uncle managed to procure for father were rather pricey. 

Uncle Koga always said, the more expensive medicines are usually the better ones from the Capitol. 

I could feel the beginnings of the rising sun rays poke at my cheek, and knew it was time for me to head back.  Normally, everyone at home would still be asleep until around seven, just when the sun is fully up.  But today is a special day, one where I expect to find someone up and about earlier than usual.  It wouldn’t do for me to cause them any more worry if I’m not found at home.  Besides, my bag was almost full anyway.

But just as I’m about to make my way back, a light tread against the earth, made me stop.  My hand was inches away from my belt when I heard a familiar voice from behind me.  “Relax, Kuchiki.  It’s just me.”

I relaxed slightly because it was just _him._ But I still had a half mind to draw my weapon anyway.  “Damn it, Hitsugaya, what did I tell you about sneaking up on people?”

“I don’t know.  What _did_ I tell you about me doing what I’m told?”  Smug bastard.  If he didn’t have a bursting bag dripping with blood, I would have clocked him on the side of the head.

 

Hitsugaya was an odd one, even among his fellow Seam folk.  He had the olive skin, but the snowy white hair and turquoise eyes made him stand out so starkly that I heard that he had trouble fitting in among them.  Given his winning personality, though, it was no wonder.

I met Hitsugaya on my first trek to the woods two years ago, when I had the bad luck of running into a wolf.  I had been such an embarrassing mess back then, barely even able to fumble for my weapon, when he came and ripped the wolf a new one without even breaking a sweat.  It didn’t help my morale when the jerk mockingly told me to turn back after I made a fool of myself and that the mayor’s daughter had no place (or brain) for wandering in the woods.

I don’t know what he expected me to do (maybe run back home and cry), but he certainly didn’t expect me to chuck a rock to his head.

Strange way to start a sort of friendship, I know.  And besides, that had been years ago (though Hitsugaya was fond of pointing out the small white line on his forehead that he claims was because of that said rock).  I’d like to think we’ve come a long way from that time.

Or at least, we’ve come to the point that he’s able to tolerate me well enough to be civil.

“You got anything worth trading in there?”  I gestured at what I knew was his game bag. 

“A rabbit.  Maybe five.  I can spare two if you have anything worth trading in yours.”

I opened my pouch and carefully scooped up a bit of my find.  “Berries?  Or does your grandmother need some remedies?”

The sun was steadily rising from the mountains, but I let myself sit with Hitsugaya for the impromptu trade we may have set ourselves up for.  He knows I love rabbits.  I knew his grandmother needed some of my herbs.  Those things became the foundation of the camaraderie we managed to build despite its shaky beginnings.

Hunting was illegal.  Everyone knew that.  But for a district wherein more than half of its people were constantly ravaged by hunger, fear of the law was becoming non-existent for those desperate enough.  The underage Hitsugaya, who only had his grandmother as his whole family, had been desperate enough to do so since he was twelve, so he told me.  I have been curious as how he learned to wield the sword and the bow and arrow so well though, since the art of wielding weapons was not one openly taught in the district.

The only reason I knew was because of the secret lessons I managed to beg off my brother, who learned it from our grandfather.  A Kuchiki family secret, I’ve been told.

But I digress.

“A pouch of strawberries and some rue for two rabbits.”  I said, my voice gleeful as I tucked the game in my bag as best as I could.  “You can use the leaves for your grandmother’s headache.  But if you want something more potent for the joint pains, I can make an ointment and bring it on the next trade.”

“You don’t have to.”  Hitsugaya said with a wave.  “Momo’s been practicing with the apothecary long enough to come up with something decent with these.  It’ll be good practice for her anyway.”

Hinamori Momo, the apothecary’s apprentice and probably the only one I’ve seen in Hitsugaya’s company back in the District.  Save for her rosy skin, she was as Seam as they come with her dark chocolate hair and brown eyes, with a lithe frame and around my height.  From what I’ve seen, they appear to have been friends for a very long time now.  She had even taken to calling him “Shiro-chan” and ruffling his hair as if he were a kid, even until now when he was taller than her (and me, damn it!) by a few feet.

“Isn’t this a little too much for two rabbits?”  I turned back to Hitsugaya who raised the pouch of strawberries for emphasis. 

“It’s not charity, if that’s what you’re thinking.”  I say automatically, biting back my distaste at the absurdity of the Seam’s view on such acts.  “Consider it a gift for your grandmother, to help her through the stress of having to listen to Shunsui Kyouraku today.”

“Right, that.” Hitsugaya rolled his eyes with a drawl.  “Happy reaper games.”

“And may the odds be ever in our favor.”  I added sardonically.  While I wouldn’t be caught dead making such a statement in the District, the woods gave me such a sense of freedom that I tend to say whatever I wanted under its quiet evergreens.

“Speaking of the games, I really need to be getting back.”  I swiftly stood up and dusted my skirt.  “Everyone at home tends to get up early for the Reaping.  I wouldn’t want them to find out I’ve been out.”

“Heaven forbid the Kuchiki turn the entire district over for the runaway princess.”  Hitsugaya scoffed, ignoring the scowl I sent his way as he got to his feet as well.  “Thanks for the trade.”

“Thanks for the rabbits.”  I nod back at him when he turned to go deeper in the forest.  “And Hitsugaya?”

“What?”

“Good luck today.”  I said sincerely, the same way I always did to him during this time of year.

And, like always, he answered me with a shrug.  “I’d wish you the same, but we both know you won’t need it.”

True, but the thought that he would was enough to make me smile.

 

“Lady Rukia, where on earth have you been?” I winced at the scolding look shot my way by our maid just when I was about to slip upstairs unnoticed. 

“Ah, good morning, Hisana?”  Hisana, our personal chef and my brother’s fiancée.  She had been taken in by the Kuchiki family since she was a child, and despite her Seam origins, my brother grew to love her dearly, enough to not care about what anyone else says against their relationship.  The only reason they haven’t wed yet is because Hisana is still due for her final reaping today, which they have agreed to allow to come to pass before finalizing the arrangements.

Not that it’s a problem with me or father.  Father openly approved of their relationship once the two came asking for his blessing a few years ago, and Hisana, who had been my best friend and confidant before she became my brother’s secret girlfriend, was already a sister to me in all but blood.  I’m sure someone as kind, caring and nurturing as Hisana would take good care of my brother.

Although I hope Brother is aware of how scary she is when she gets mad.

“What on earth is this mess, My lady?  What would your uncle say if he saw you tracking mud all over the house?”  Hisana crossed her arms with a soul piercing stare.  “Your bag and your dress!  Look at all the coal dust!  For how long have you been out for you to become this dirty?!  And, is, is that—?!”

“I just went out for a walk is all.”  I said quickly, tucking away the bloodied portion of my dress away from view.  “And I may have ran into someone who had some food to share.”

The words were purposefully vague, but Hisana’s eyes dimmed in understanding almost immediately before she led me to my room without a word.  Honestly, this hunting and foraging business is the worst kept secret in 12.

“You should be more careful, princess.”  Hisana chided once within the safety of my bathroom, the faucet turned on while she worked the dust and blood off my skirt.  “You’re lucky I’m the one who saw you trying to sneak back inside.  If it had been your uncle, you would have never heard the end of it! You know how he feels about you interacting with…people like us.”

I winced guiltily.  How can I not?  If there was someone in our house who was all about Kuchiki superiority and Seam inferiority, it was my great uncle Koga.  “Sorry, Hisana.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, my lady.  I know you’re only trying to help Lord Soujun by making your trades,” Hisana’s tone became gentler, which only made me feel guiltier.  As far as she knew, the herbs I’ve been getting had come from my trades with the Seam hunters, not from me actually doing the picking. “But think of the consequences.  A lovely lady such as yourself, discreetly meeting with some of the Seam for trades all by yourself in the wee hours of the morning.  What if something were to happen to you?  Would such a danger really be worth this?”

I tugged at the loose ends of my hair self-consciously.  “You know the answer to that.”

Of course Hisana did.  She wouldn’t sigh so frustratedly like that otherwise.  “But still, LADY RUKIA.  Please be more mindful if you really do not wish for me to accompany you in your trades.  How it would break your father’ s and brother’s hearts if any harm were to befall you!”

I am reminded of my near-death experience with the wolf two years ago, which is not helping my guilt at all. 

Hisana turned the faucet off and wrung the dress dry.  “I’ll be taking this and the game you managed to acquired on my way down.  Breakfast will be served in an hour so please be ready by then.  And I’ve already prepared your dress for the reaping.  I will have it brought up to you afterwards.”

Right.  That again.  I forced the irritation out of my face at the thought.  “Of course, Hisana.”

The older lady’s eyes turned soft and kind at me.  “Oh don’t worry so much, princess.  With so little chances, I am sure you will never get reaped.  You have nothing to fear from that, for sure!”

That’s the second person to tell me of my good odds today.  It almost sounds like tempting fate.  Nevertheless, I shook my head and smiled.  “Thank you kindly, Hisana. And may the odds be in your favor as well.”

The words leave a bad taste in my mouth, but what else can I say?

 

It was around nine in the morning when I came down again all dressed for the reaping.  For this year, I picked a sky blue elbow sleeved cotton dress and a pair of ankle high boots.  Simple and comfortable enough.  Certainly better than the gaudy laced nightmares Koga used to choose for me.  

I found the man sitting the living room, newspaper in hand, dressed in a crimson business suit, black vest, white undershirt and red necktie, his kenseikan—the Kuchiki family traditional hairpins—clipping the portion of his black hair dyed red on the right side of his head.  Across him was my brother and the heir to my father’s position, Byakuya, wearing an all grey pinstripe suit, his kenseikan clipped on top of his head.

“Good morning, uncle, Brother.”  I greeted with a  bow.  “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.”

“It’s fine.”  Brother acknowledged when my uncle only gave a grunt.  “We’re still waiting for father to come down.  Hisana is currently attending to him.”

“Oh.  But he just broke from his fever yesterday…”  I frowned at the thought.  Is it really all right for him to be out so soon after that?

“He’ll be all right.  He has to be. He is the mayor of this district, after all.  The Capitol’s embodiment in this town.”  Koga spoke from behind his newspaper, as if it wasn’t his older brother who was ill upstairs at the moment.  I shifted my gaze to my brother who shook his head the slightest bit before staring blankly ahead.

The three of us remained silent for a while before a voice called out.  “I’m sorry to keep you all waiting!”

A smile comes unbidden as I greeted the man behind me with a hug.  “Father!” 

Belatedly, I heard Hisana greet my brother and uncle while Father laughs lightly as he returns my embrace. “Forgive me for missing you this morning, sweetheart.  I was still feeling a little under the weather.”

“It’s all right.  Brother already told me about it.  I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”  I then frowned when I took note of his attire: a pressed leather business suit over a white undershirt and red tie, his hair neatly combed with our traditional family hair clips, the kenseikan, fastened to the right side of his head.  “Is it all right for you to go out?”

“Thank you for your concern, princess, but I’ll be fine.  I certainly have the strength enough to do this.  Now come, we best be off.”  Father gave Brother a nod.  “See to the ladies, Byakuya.”

“Yes, father.” Brother answered easily while father went ahead to join Koga, slipping an arm around Hisana’s shoulder while giving mine a squeeze.  “Come, Rukia.”

The Central 46 had been rulers of Seireitei for hundreds of years.  But the tradition of the Reaper games had not started until 74 years ago, when a rebelling faction attempted to usurp the Central 46 and its central ruler known as the Soul King.  Needless to say, the faction was soundly beaten and, in a bid to prevent any other rebellion attempts and to remind its citizens of their power, the Central 46 established this annual battle royale contest.  Two representatives from Districts One to Twelve—a boy and a girl—were reaped from a pool of children ages twelve to eighteen to compete in a televised bloodbath where there can only be one winner, the victor, who is showered by riches and glory beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. 

Personally, I think the Reaper Games are a death sentence for anyone reaped, with the victors getting the worst out of everyone else. 

But Hitsugaya and Hisana were right, I had no real reason to worry.  While the mayor’s children are not exempt from the reapings, there are only six slips with my name in a bowl filled by hundreds.  I never had to take sign up for what was called a tesserae, an arrangement wherein a person taking one is give a year’s worth of grain and oil in exchange for their name being entered one more time for each tesserae.  You can take tesserae for each member of your family once a year, and the number of slips gained for that year is cumulative.

I don’t think there’s any Seam child below thirteen who doesn’t sign up for tesserae annually, which makes the odds of them being chosen that much bigger.  Case in point, Hisana, eighteen years old and never signed up for tesserae her whole life, has her name in this year’s bowl seven times.  Hitsugaya, who is in the classes a year below mine and possibly a regular tesserae taker, for around 26.

It’s a small consolation that my brother, now twenty-one years old, is safe from the reapings.   And since Hisana is the only maid still eligible for reaping age at home, she is the only one who is going to accompany us to the square for the reaping.

The square was heavy with the air of trepidation by the time we have arrived, as it had always been during reapings.  Hisana and I fell in line with the other children, already divided into groups by gender and by age, in front of the stage.  On it were the two reaping bowls from where the district’s escort, Shunsui Kyouraku, will draw the names of the two children whose lives will be forever changed.

I chanced a gaze at the seventeen year old boys section, and met that familiar sea foam green gaze.  I have Hitsugaya a nod who returned it before looking back on stage.

As usual, our district’s escort arrived on stage with a flair for drama, a floral pink kimono on his shoulder that contrasted to the stark black business suit he wore underneath.  Kyouraku ambled to the microphone like the drunken fool that he was and spoke.  “Happy reaper games, lovely ladies and gents of District 12!”

No one said anything in response though.  Not that that bothered Kyouraku who merely walked back to where the lone victor of District 12 stood quietly in the side, wearing a simple white coat and tie. 

Ukitake Juushiro, the winner of the 50th Reaper Games, when he was a mere fifteen years old.  The prime example of why I thought victors were in reality the greatest losers in these sick games.

As was custom, my father stood before us and recited the usual speech on praising the Capitol for its kindness and its strength, for our gratitude in the opportunity for glory for the district presented through the Reaper Games, all of that nonsense.  It was the affection I had for my father that kept me from completely zoning out as I scanned the crowds for something to alleviate my boredom.

“And now, we honor our 74th Reaper Games.”  Kyouraku was back on the mic by the time my attention returned to the stage.  “Ladies first!”

I then search the crowd for Hisana in order to give her a comforting smile.  She had seven slips and I had six.  Seven and six.  Surely the odds are way better for us.  It’s sad that it would mean that someone else would be picked to join the games but it certainly will be—

“Kuchiki no Hisana!”

 

—what the hell?!

I whirled around, my lungs seized and my world spinning in disbelief.  It can’t be.  It can’t possibly be.  She had only seven slips!  FUCKING SEVEN SLIPS!  OUT OF HUNDREDS!  How can that drunk bastard pick Hisana’s name?!

Hisana’s shriek pierced the air, the crowd around her dispersing like a bubble as she fell to her knees, all white and shaking in terror.  I snapped my attention back on stage, to where my family was.  My uncle, stone faced and uncaring as ever.  My father, eyes wide and disbelieving, his hand on my brother.  Brother who had gone rigid, just as pale as Hisana was, eyes openly torn and aghast.

Oh heavens, he was going to marry her after this! They were supposed to get married and take care of each other and make each other happy!  This can’t be happening!

A pair of guards, Peacekeepers they’re called, came to where Hisana was and began to force her to her feet.  Not caring whether Hisana was scared out of her wits and barely able to stand.  As if she can actually last a day in the arena.

No.  No.  No!  No I won’t allow it!

“HISANA!”  I screamed, pushing my way past the crowd. “NO, DON’T TAKE HER!  DON’T TAKE HER YOU BASTARDS!  HISANA!”  And in a flurry of desperation, the only thing that I know that will stop the Peacekeepers from taking the girl I loved as a sister away, I thrust my hand up. 

  They can’t take Hisana!  They can’t take my Brother’s happiness!  I won’t let them!

**_“I VOLUNTEER!”_ **

Two words and the world had seemingly frozen.  It was just the way I wanted.

“I volunteer.”  I repeat as loudly as I can.  “I volunteer as tribute!”

“…NO!  NO!  LADY RUKIA, NO!”  Hisana screamed horribly when the peacekeepers released her in favor of me.  I cried out in protest when I saw another of the brutes elbow her away when she tried to reach for me as I was dragged to the stage.  “ _LADY RUKIA!_ ”

“Oya, oya, the first ever volunteer of District 12.  But aren’t you the Mayor’s daughter?”  Kyouraku drawled as soon I reached the stage.  It was only when my feet hit the wood that I realized that I was shaking.  Looking at my family now only made it worse.  Koga was slack jawed for once.  Father’s eyes were shining and glassy, looking as if I had stabbed my sword through his heart, both hands on Brother’s arm as if for support.  And Brother, my brother’s stoic mask cracked, pupils reduced to slits and nostrils flared.

“Now why would the District’s little princess volunteer for a common folk, huh?  You realize what you just signed up for right?”  A shadow crossed Kyouraku’s eyes for a bit before he turned to the crowd again with a jubilant air.  “And that is fame and fortune!  Splendid!  Splendid!  The little princess has guts!  Who would have thought?  Everyone, give a round of applause to your female tribute!”

The air was dead silent again, save for Hisana’s wailing, for a few painful seconds before Kyouraku groaned out.  “The boys’ turn, then.”

Kyouraku’s hand dug into the glass bowl of papers, swishing his hand around, before drawing the second worst name he could have possibly chosen today.

“Hitsugaya Toushirou!”

 

Oh fuck no!  The shaking in my legs turned worse as I watched the white-haired boy who had become my somewhat friend made his way to the stage without much fanfare, even when the look in his eyes showed just how shocked he was over being called.

Of all the male tributes that could have been chosen!  I was this close to screaming and crying on this very stage.  Why did it have to be _him_?

“Your tributes, District 12!  Kuchiki Rukia and Hitsugaya Toushirou!”  Kyouraku called out again but I couldn’t care any less.  Right now, I had eyes only for Hitsugaya, who was staring at me back just as intently. 

The world was still again, as if we were all frozen in one very sad, tragic picture.  Waiting for something to break.

Then a whistle.

Ukitake, who had been silent up until now, raised three fingers to his lips then up to the air in a salute.  Soon, everyone in the square raise their fingers in the same salute as well. 

It was a farewell salute for a loved one in District 12.  As if they’re already expecting me that I’ll be returning home from the arena in a wooden box.

But instead of filling me with despair, it was as if someone lit inside me a match.

I volunteered to go into the games.  If I am going in there to die, I will do so with my head held high.

“Hitsugaya.”  I held out my hand, making the boy before me blink at the gesture.  I smiled sardonically.  “Happy reaper games.”

The turquoise eyes softened the slightest bit, colored by bitter irony, his own hand reaching to grasp mine.  “And may the odds be ever in your favor.”

 

 

 


End file.
